


Whoever Said Ignorance Was Bliss Has Never Been To An American Public High School

by cazei



Series: Newsies Works by Readeatsleeprepeat [10]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 5+1, Bullying, Deaf Character, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Hard of Hearing, Highschoolers are stupid, M/M, Oblivious, Protective Spot, Race is HOH, References to bullying, Spot is a Mom friend but only to race, brusises, i Tried it's late okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazei/pseuds/cazei
Summary: Five Times People Didn't Know That Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins And Sean "Spot" Conlon were Friends, And The Times That They All Knew.-"Why do I feel like they actually are, like, friends? And we didn’t know about it. At all."I sigh. “I have no idea."





	Whoever Said Ignorance Was Bliss Has Never Been To An American Public High School

**Author's Note:**

> woah this is an actual mess i tried okay 
> 
> i am a ti r ed fifteen year old who Tries
> 
> lmao biggest lie ever 
> 
> okay idk why i wrote this it happened
> 
> edit: and the title was too relatable to pass up i swear i was going to change it but ,, have you ever been to an american public high school yesterday someone got suspended for throwing a fucking sausage in the girl's bathroom stalls while people were using the bathrooms and this isn't the first time it's happened either

DAVID JACOBS

I scoff as Jack continues to tell the same dramatic telling of an event that happened ages ago.

"Aw, come on, Davey," Jack whines. "I was just about to get to the good part."

"There is no good part," I mutter. Romeo laughs and agrees with me.

"Betrayed by my own bestfriend," Jack complains. “Crutch, Spot, back me up."ea

Crutchie says shortly, "No."

Jack sighs. "What about you, Spot?"

Spot, who hasn’t looked up from his phone as we walk down the hallway, sighs and meets Jack's eyes. "What?"

"Back me up...Were you even listening?" Jack asks, slightly hurt and concerned at the same time.

"I need a ride home," Spot mutters. "My dad just flew to Tennessee, and, no, it wasn’t planned."

Before any of us can offer, he turns sharply and grins. Reaching out, he touches a random Junior, like us, on the arm and says, "Hey, can you give me a ride home?"

"Your dad flaked again?" The other student, Anthony Higgins says.

"Yeah," Spot sighs. "If not, don’t worry about it."

"Of course I can, Spot. My brother's going to football with you, anyways, so you’ve got rides. Don’t worry about it."

They share a smile just as the warning bell rings. Anthony shakes his head and heads to class.

We all stare at Spot.

"What?" He asks.

"You know Anthony?" I ask.

Spot's face is void before he suddenly laughs. "He’ll hate you if you call him that. It’s Race. So, on the history homework…”

 

* * *

 

ROMEO

The sub drones on and on as Spot and I continue to ignore her. It’s not difficult, all you have to do is play tic-tac-toe on the corner of an assignment, and you’re set for forty minutes.

Eventually, though, she’s passing out another assignment, and Spot and I need to work.

I roll my eyes at him. "It’s due tomorrow; I can just do it before the game tonight."

"It’s not worth focusing right now," Spot agrees. Then, he smiles and looks past me.

"Hey, Race," Spot greets. I turn around to see Racetrack Higgins, standing behind me with an odd expression. "Everything alright?"

Race squints and then shakes his head. Spot frowns and holds out a hand; his thumb and pinky are sticking out, but everything else is a fist. He taps it against his chin twice. I’m confused until Race responds in a same manner, his fingers flying and wrist moving.  
They’re signing to each other.

After a moment, Race taps his ear.

_Anthony is deaf?_

"Hard of hearing," Spot says to me, and I remember how confused I must look. " _Very_ hard of hearing."

He unzips his backpack, shuffles a few things around, and pulls out a small ziplock bag. Inside, I can see small batteries and a screwdriver no longer than my fist. Race unhooks a small device from his ear and hands it to Spot. I notice Race's tapping his foot; he’s anxious.

Spot changes the battery and hands it to him in a matter of seconds. _He knows what he’s doing_. Race takes it back and puts it on; after a few seconds of tinkering, he sighs.

"We’re good now. Thank you so much. I thought I was going to have to go deaf for the rest of the day."

"Nah, you know I’ve got you covered," Spot says, grinning.

Race shakes his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Yeah."

"We still on for friday?" Spot asks.

"Of course," Race says. "Ah, the sub is glaring. I’ll text you."

Just as soon as he arrived, Racetrack is gone. Spot gives me a look.

"What? Oh, don’t be abelistic."

"Is that even a word?" I muse. "And, no, I wasn’t. I just didn’t know you were friends, that’s all."

Spot tilts his head. "Why do you guys keep saying that?"

"Alright, class," the sub calls nasally. "Turn to page 394.”

 

* * *

SPECS

Races's in the middle of explaining the plot of his new favorite book, _Newsies_ , to me when a line of football players turns around the corner and starts strutting down the hallway.

I roll my eyes, but Race's lips twist into a small smile.

"Jocks," I scoff.

He shoves my arm. "Don’t reinforce stereotypes, Specs."

"We’re the prime example of nerd/geek stereotype, Race. It would be hypocritical of me not to point it out."

Together we both start to walk down the hall. We’re crouched to the side to avoid running into half the football team.

Suddenly, one of them leans out of the group and shoves Race. He hits the lockers, not hard but enough to make a noise.

I see red.

"Hey! Knock it off!" I call, and they all stop.

“Specs," Race says, laughing.

"No, you can’t let them push you around-" I start.

"Finley, he was joking," Race says. "It was just Spot."

I frown. "So? He pushed you, why aren’t you angry?"

“Specs, it’s _Sean_. He wasn’t going to hurt me," Race says, as if that makes more sense.

I frown. Most of the teammates who hung back look confused as well. The player who pushed Race, Spot, simply stares at me amusedly.

"Sorry, Specs, it really was a joke," Spot says. “Tony, you’re going to the game right?"

"Obviously. Can I crash at yours after?"

"Obviously.”

 

* * *

SARAH JACOBS

“Spot?" I ask. "What are you doing?"

"Taking notes. What does it look like?" He asks.

Yeah. _Sure_.

"No, really," Katherine asks. "What are you doing?"

Spot glares. "Is it really that hard to believe?"

"Yes," my girlfriend and I say simultaneously.

An exhale. "Alright, fine. Fair enough. They’re not for me, if that clears it up."

It doesn’t. "Who are they for then?" Kath asks.

“Race, who else?" Spot says, nearly sounding annoyed. "He’s had the flu for a week now, who else is going to take his notes?"

“Higgins? You know him?" I ask, surprised.

"You’re kidding, right?" Spot asks.

Katherine and I share a look.

"Uh, no?" I say. "Why? Should we be?"

Spot swears. "I’m so confused. Just...Shut up while I take these notes. I’ll explain it later, I guess."

 

* * *

JACK KELLEY

David and I are shoving each other jokingly in the dark gym when the doors open, and we jump in shock. Spot laughs at us from the doorway. His hair is wet, as we just finished football practice, and he hung back to take a shower.

"Ready to go?" Spot asks, pulling out his car keys. David shoulders his bag and nods.

"Can we get food?" He asks.

I nod. "Of course, Davey."

We start to cross the gym, heading for the exits that lead to the side parking lot. The door opens again, however, and we all pause to look at it. Racetrack Higgins walks into the shadowy gym and stops.

"Oh, hey, guys. Spot, by any chance can you bring me home? I was about to walk."

David and I share a confused look.

"Of course, Race. Why were you here so late anyways?"

Race shrugs visibly in the darkened room. "I had to finish an art project."

“Nearly finished with it, eh?" Spot gestures with his shoulders. “We should get going."

Race catches up to us quickly, and he walks just in the shadow to Spot's right.

David reaches the doors first, and the sudden light he brings causes me to blink rapidly and look away. After a second of staring at the pavement and making noises of complaints, we regain our sight and make to keep going.

Then, Spot stops.

“Tony, what happened to your face?" He asks, and his voice drips with ice.

I turn to see Racetrack look off to the right, poorly hiding a bruise on his right jaw bone.

"Ran into a locker," Race answers smoothly. "It was really embarrassing, actually."

"Bullshit," Spot announces. "Who did this?"

They go back and forth a bit more, but I tune them out as David starts a conversation with me.

"Why do I feel like they actually are, like, friends? And we didn’t know about it. At all."

I sigh. “I have no idea."

Spot reaches a hand toward Race's face, and Race shrugs him off.

"Can we just go to the car?" Race mutters.

"God, they’re practically married," David scoffs. "And we didn’t even know that they knew each other."

"We’re oblivious," I agree.

“Race, what happened." Spot uses his firm voice, and I know he means business. I see David sneak around him discreetly, while I shoot him looks of warning, and grab his keys from his backpack.

David and I speed walk into the parking lot, whispering and conspiring about the two of them as they argue and walk slowly behind us. I know I’ve made the right decision when I hear,

“Spot, you don’t have to protect me. I can handle myself."

"You shouldn’t have to, Anthony. You shouldn’t have to."

Eventually, Race breaks away and slams himself into the passenger seat. I see Spot sigh and gracefully climb into the driver’s seat.

The ride is awkward and silent, and David and I can’t help but send each other tense looks and memes to displace the quietness.

When Spot finally pulls up to what I assume to be Race's house, he sighs before unlocking the door.

“Race, you aren’t alone. Okay? No matter what you think or want, you’re stuck with me. Just, don’t shut me out, okay? I’m going to drop these two off, and I’m coming over later."

Race exhales. "Okay."

 

* * *

 

3RD POV

With all the events recently, it wasn’t really a surprise when Spot confronted Morris in the middle of the hallway and decked him for touching his friend.

It wasn’t a surprise that, hey, Spot's friends really are just clueless and didn’t notice how often Race actually was around.

It wasn’t a surprise, then, when Jack, David, and Crutchie walked into Spot's room to find them both passed out in the other’s arms.

Or when they were caught stealing the oxygen from the other’s lungs in the middle of a school day in the janitor's closet.

It wasn’t a surprise.

No, it was Anthony and Sean.  

**Author's Note:**

> what'd you think be kind i'm sensitive 
> 
> yell at me on tumblr: @calciumsulfide


End file.
